


sleep

by casp



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Demons, Gen, Horror, One Shot, Possession, Violence, What am I doing, at least I hope, uhhh???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 21:45:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12021651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casp/pseuds/casp
Summary: When he opened his eyes next he saw his reflection- well, parts of it. The mirror was broken, and in shattered remnants still stuck at the corners of their frame he saw his face, his forehead beading with red. And that smile, god that smile, usually cute to people with the way it curled up on its' corners like a kitten. Now it was only malicious, evil, pure coniving evil. Tears and blood mingled as they fell down his pale cheeks, and he noted how deep and purple the bags under his eyes were. Even with his face smashed into glass, all he could think about was his exhaustion."Sleep," he said, so terribly eery and slow, and this time he saw it, saw his lips move and form the words, but it just wasn't him."Please, please, leave me alone, please God! Help me!"





	sleep

He didn't remember falling. Only that he was on the floor now, and his butt and head hurt. It took a few long breaths and blinks but finally he sat up, leaning over his knees and letting his head droop. So tired. _God_ , was he tired.

  
There was no use falling asleep here on the bathroom floor though, still wet and dripping, skin sticking to the cold tile beneath him. Only.. he was mostly dry now, hair frizzy and curling in places it shouldn't, and he realized finally the warmth on his cheeks were tears. Didn't he just get out of the shower? When did he start crying? How long had he been out? He wiped at his eyes and felt a long sob pour out of him, the tears free to fall as exhaustion and overwhelming frustration wracked his senses. It was too hard, and "I'm so tired."

  
"ύπνος," it said, and somehow Jongdae knew it meant 'sleep'. It wanted him to cave, he thought, but a part of him was sure it was his subconscious finally frying over for just a few minutes of sleep.

  
" **ύ π ν ο ς** ," it growled, and only then did he realize _he_ was the one saying it. It didn't sound like his voice, low and scraping and rough. It spoke so slowly the word seemed to draw out a full four seconds, and each moment made Jongdae feel sick. It was wrong. It was him but it wasn't him; it was the shadow at the end of his bed, the hand pinching his legs or pulling his feet. It was what grabbed his throat or stuffed coals in his mouth when he tried to ask for help or pray. It wanted him to sleep, but why? It hasn't let him sleep for months.

  
"Get out! Get out of my head!" he screamed and smacked at his temple, sobbing again while folding in half over his legs. What was wrong with him? He was losing his fucking mind!

  
" _Just sleep, little one, it's alright_." Talking to himself- he knew he was the one talking, but it just wasn't him, it wasn't even his native language.

"No, no, I don't want to--"

  
" _You **must!**_ " And Jongdae's throat hurt from the force of the yell. He started snarling things in-- was that Greek? He didn't speak Greek!- and he felt himself drooling on his own thigh.

  
When he opened his eyes next he saw his reflection- well, parts of it. The mirror was broken, and in shattered remnants still stuck at the corners of their frame he saw his face, his forehead beading with red. And that smile, god that smile, usually cute to people with the way it curled up on its' corners like a kitten. Now it was only malicious, evil, pure coniving evil. Tears and blood mingled as they fell down his pale cheeks, and he noted how deep and purple the bags under his eyes were. Even with his face smashed into glass, all he could think about was his exhaustion.

  
" _Sleep_ ," he said, so terribly eery and slow, and this time he saw it, saw his lips move and form the words, but it just _wasn't him_.

  
"Please, please, leave me alone, please God! Help me!"

  
He regretted saying that.

  
Fully awake this time, the.. _force_ inside him slammed his face against the remaining fractured glass, and Jongdae screamed, his knuckles turning white with how hard he gripped its' edges. He didn't need a reflection to know he was really, truly bleeding now, and he sobbed and pushed himself away from the vanity, if only to trip on his towel and land harshly to a seat on the toilet.

  
He blanked out again. He must of, it was the only way to explain the sight he saw the next time he opened his eyes. His only response at this point was to cry- he was too tired to even scream anymore.  
He was clutching a larger shard of glass, gripping it tight enough that it cut through the skin in some places. Slouched against the back of the toilet Jongdae could see his chest, and he prayed harder than ever for release. Somehow, he'd carved an upside down star in his chest, ringed and all, and it oozed with blood. Jongdae had always, always been deeply religious, and the sight of that symbol on him, _**carved** into_ him, was enough to make him lean over and gag. He couldn't vomit, of course- no food to even expel. Along his forearm were several crosses, his thighs were more words in Greek, more symbols of the **devil**.

  
"Spare me, please," he cried, closing his eyes to spare himself the sight. He just wanted it to be over. He was so tired of running from every shadow, puking when he tried to eat, blacking out and having no recollection of his violent outbursts, no way to pray or plead for help. "Just end it."

  
Things seemed calm, if only for a minute, and Jongdae forced himself to drop the shard of glass and slump down in his seat. He had to clean himself up, get to a doctor, right now, before he hurt himself or anyone else. He needed serious, serious help, immediately, and he sniffled and attempted to rip off some toilet paper to cover the cuts with turbulently shaking hands-- it was impossible. He cried out again; it wouldn't have helped much anyway, not with how much he was bleeding.

  
He sobbed again and leaned over, this time his elbows connecting to his knees while he broke down completely, not caring in the slightest how he wracked and shook and cried. "Help me, God, please," and more prayers and pleads escaped him- the first time he'd heard himself utter such holy names in weeks. It might be okay, he decided, if he died soon.

  
It was cruel how long he was allowed to remain himself this time. His skin ached with the bleedings cuts, covered his flesh in fresh blood and dripped freely off him, onto the toilet and floor. If he could get his thoughts sorted for even one second, he might worry about how he'd explain this to his roommate, or worse, his landlord-- but all he could fear now was the demon inside him. That must be it. That, or he had really truly lost his mind.

  
He longed for his cross, the silver one he once wore around his neck every second of the day, clutched in his fingers when he was unsure or afraid. His faith had always protected him and guided him, so why him? Why had the sight of that cross filled him with such rage one morning, why had it made him want to vomit and scream when he'd touched it- only briefly, and only to yank it off his neck and throw it?

  
No, it wasn't the logical explanation, but it was the only one that made real sense to him.

  
"The **devil** 's inside me," he sputtered, briefly looking at the bleeding crosses on his arms. From his point of view, they were upside down.

  
" _No, no, **no**_ ," he replied- to himself- and without actually telling his legs to do so, Jongdae slowly stood from his resting place. His feet were bare, and he resisted the urge to shout as he stood on the glass shards.

  
Jongdae felt the clenched, wracking feeling of crying and utter, defeated sadness inside him, but in the remaining few chips of glass still clinging to the cabinet Jongdae could see his face was the opposite. Tears and blood still dripped down his cheeks, over his eyes, his mouth- it was disgusting.

  
So why was he smiling so victoriously?

  
"I am destruction."

  
"I am chaos."

  
"I am this world's resurrection. "

"I am **Apollyon**."

**Author's Note:**

> uh hey i've never actually posted anything on this account and god knows why i chose this as my debut??? olly is a fun fucked up lil dude tho brought into the world via a mash up of a dr jekyll and mr hyde au with my eternal fascination with demons and exorcisms lmao. so: like i said this is my debut, and i hope u have as much fun reading as i did writing <3


End file.
